


Tag Your Porn

by wannaliveindeansdimples



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Crack, Humor, M/M, Stereotypes, Terrible accents, blood-soaked communist femslash, canon-compliant skeleton fisting, canon-compliant werewolf lapsex, cringeworthy cowboy lapsex, domestic capitalist femslash, emotional vegan shenanigans, gratuitous library fisting, kinky mathematical promposal, softcore fbi spanking, well-lubed bee-filled orgy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-21
Updated: 2018-01-10
Packaged: 2018-11-03 05:22:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 13,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10960560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wannaliveindeansdimples/pseuds/wannaliveindeansdimples
Summary: My AO3 Tag Generator Self-Challenge. 10 randomly generated tags. 10 little ficlets based on those tag prompts. 11 kinds of crazy.





	1. Be Grateful

**Author's Note:**

> Mahbbys sent me the AO3TG and told me I should use it for a prompt and I decided I would click the button ten times and those would be the prompts for 10 little ficlets, somewhat akin to the tropefest challenge. So here we are. I'm not even sorry. Also, I will not warn you beforehand which tag a chapter is going to be. You'll find out soon enough as you read. Enjoy!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just your run of the mill best friends to lovers (offscreen) slowburn. But not really.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who is excited?!

Cas, as Dean had known since they’d first met nearly two years ago, was not the most socially adroit person on the planet. He wasn’t the least either, but he was definitely a lot closer to that end of the list. What Dean never expected was for Cas to try making new friends via Craigslist.

“Dean, you are the only friend I’ve made since moving here,” Cas had said after Dean had balked at Cas’s friend-making scheme. “I don’t like going out alone. I don’t like going to bars, except when you are there. I feel this is the best way to meet new people, with similar interests.”

Dean had gone along with it because, well, he wanted Cas to have friends. Cas deserved friends. Especially since Dean was kind of a crappy friend, in that he wanted to be oh-so-much-more than that, but had not yet managed to come around to saying anything.

Not that that was entirely his fault. Cas, after all, had never given the slightest indication of his orientation—be it straight, gay, bi, ace or other—and Dean had always relied on overt clues in lieu of actual gaydar. Overt clues like when a guy said he liked other dudes, the way Aaron had. Or grabbed Dean and shoved his tongue down his throat in the back of the bar, as Benny had done. Or men who were in gay bars. Clear indicators, in other words.

Cas didn’t go to bars. Cas didn’t date. Cas had never mentioned dating anyone previously. Cas didn’t even comment when _Dean_ went out with people. If he had opinions, he had yet to express a single one. And he had never, to date, shoved his tongue down Dean’s oh-so-very-willing throat.

“You are oh-so-very pathetic,” Dean groused at himself.

Cas had called earlier, to tell him that he’d met some people online and there was going to be a get together at his house. Dean was excited for him, but he was a little worried about strange people showing up at Cas’s house. He offered to come over, but Cas declined.

“No, Dean, but thank you. I need to do this on my own.”

“Sure thing, Cas. If you change your mind, you can text me.”

Dean sat on his couch, nursing a beer and watching old Star Trek reruns. He pretended he wasn’t watching the clock, to see if Cas’s friends should have arrived yet. He also pretended he wasn’t straining his ears to hear if his phone had chimed with a text message. He was halfway through his beer when the sound actually happened, and so into the serious Spirk subtext of the current episode that he wasn’t even sure he’d really heard it.

**> _Dean, please come over._**

**_< Sure thing, man._ **

He didn’t wait for a response. He just capped his beer and put it in the fridge, then grabbed his wallet and keys and headed over to Cas’s place. On the way there, he tried to think of ways to find out if Cas was into dudes that didn’t involve actually asking the question. He actually managed to think of something kind of clever, but he wasn’t sure when the opportunity might arise.

He could picture it, though. They’d be sitting on his couch or maybe Cas’s, and there’d be something on TV with two men kissing. Dean would glance at him a couple of times, to see what sort of emotions—if any—were playing across his face.

If Dean couldn’t get a read on him, he would turn to Cas and ask, “This bother you? Two dudes kissing? You never really said what you’re into. Or not into. Whatever.”

The daydream carried him all the way to Cas’s house, and he approached the porch with a renewed sense of hope. Maybe he and Cas wasn’t a lost cause after all. Maybe he might have a shot. He might actually get to find out.

First, of course, he had to meet Cas’s friends. Although, now that he paid attention, Cas’s driveway was empty except for their two vehicles. Had they not shown up?

“Aw, shit. Cas?” he called, knocking on the door.

When Cas answered, however, he didn’t look sad or even angry. He looked like he’d been on the receiving end of an unrequested ice water enema. His hair was a solid mess, but his eyes were the fucked up part. They were wide and lost looking. He had a beer in his hand that was mostly empty and he finished it after giving Dean the frightened deer look.

“Come in.” He stepped back from the door and motioned Dean inside.

“Cas, what the hell, man? You look spooked as hell.”

“I... you’re going to mock me. I can already hear it. I don’t want to tell you what happened, but you’re my only friend here and—”

“Hey, whoa! Cas, man, look at me.” He took Cas by the shoulders. “Take a deep breath, okay? No one is going to mock you. You look like your dead grandma came to play peek-a-boo and you’re freaking me out. Last thing I’m going to do is laugh at you.”

“Dean, I thought they were apiarists like me.” He sounded utterly dejected.

“Huh?”

“ _Hivers_. Or at least people who were avidly interested in Melittology.”

“Wha—oh! The bee thing. Bee keepers.” Dean frowned. “They weren’t?”

“Dean, they—” He flung a hand over his eyes and looked horrified.

“Hey, man. Just take it slow and tell me what happened.”

“Here, let me show you the ad.”

Cas got his phone and pulled up Craigslist. Dean briefly noted the title “Bee Lovers Club!!” before Cas clicked the link and then handed the phone over. At first, Dean saw nothing weird, but as he got into the text further, he started to figure out the problem. Cas wasn’t good with subtleties at all. Dean read a few more lines with bad double entendres about stingers and honey and then he passed the phone back.

“Cas, these people aren’t into bees the same way you are.”

“ _Well, I know that now_!” Cas shouted, again looking horrified.

“Here, let’s sit down. Actually, you sit, and I’ll get you a beer. Then you can tell me exactly what happened, okay?”

Dean got a beer for each of them and came and sat next to Cas on the couch. Because of the situation, he dared to sit close enough for their legs to just barely brush each other. While it was thrilling, he was mostly doing it to give his friend moral support. He knew _he’d_ draw strength from touch at a moment like whatever this was that had Cas so shaken, anyway. Hopefully Cas would too.

“When the first man arrived, I was confused. He had some sort of drum in his hands, but that wasn’t the weird—”

“Drum? Like a bongo or something?”

“No. No, like an oil drum, but smaller. Like a gallon or so. It was... it said Albo-something on it.”

Dean got a funny feeling. “Albolene?”

“Maybe?” Cas frowned. “I honestly don’t remember.”

“All right, it doesn’t matter. Go ahead.”

It mattered a little. As he’d learned when he was dating Benny and they were fluid-bonded and stopped using condoms, Albolene made a hell of an anal lube, so long as no latex was involved. It used to be pretty common in gay porn, from what he’d heard, but he couldn’t verify that.

Cas sighed with his eyes closed and drank a long swallow of his beer. “The most baffling thing wasn’t the drum, anyway. It was his... attire. He was wearing... Dean, he was dressed like....” Cas looked unable to go on, staring at Dean with eyes that pleaded not to make him say it out loud.

“He was dressed like a bee, wasn’t he?”

“ _Yes_! And as soon as he walked in, there were more men behind him. All of them in-in the... costumes. And before I could explain there had been some sort of mistake, one of them pulled a flap on the front of his costume and... and he... he-he—”

“Made an awful joke about showing you his stinger?” Dean asked, afraid of the answer.

“Oh, God, Dean. Oh, _God_. They were—they started _buzzing_ , Dean! Then someone asked why I wasn’t in my bee keeper outfit because wasn’t I supposed to... well, they made references to collecting honey that were _highly_ inappropriate and I told them all to get the hell out.” He dropped his head into his hands. “Dean, I’m so humiliated. What were they? Who does that? They thought we were going to have some sort of—”

“Well-lubed, bee-filled orgy?”

“You’re laughing!” Cas accused, head snapping up and blue eyes flashing. When he saw that Dean was not smiling or giving any hint of amusement, he sagged again.

“I’m not, Cas.” Dean dared put an arm around him. “Look, I’m sorry, man. Next time, maybe I should help you screen the ads or whatever. These guys were obviously some very specific kind of furry, man.”

“It was horrible. Next time? I can’t do this again! What they were starting to _do_ , Dean... Disgusting.”

Dean felt his stomach twist and realized the opportunity to ask his question had arrived, though not in the way he’d expected. “So, does that bother you, then? Seeing dudes, uh, making out or whatever?”

The look Cas gave him said he suspected Dean had been dropped on his head as a child. “Don’t ask stupid questions.”

“Well, I don’t think it _is_ stupid, Cas. I mean, we’ve never really discussed your, you know. Preferences or whatever.” He was botching this, he thought, but he didn’t know how to pull it back. “I mean, you know I’m bi, right?” Cas nodded, looking confused. “But you’ve never said if you’re straight or ace or what. So I just, you know, wondered, I guess.”

“Dean. The only issue I had was that they were _acting like bees_. Except that they were sexualizing the stinger, which doesn’t even make any kind of sense because if a bee stings, it loses its stinger and it dies and there isn’t anything sexy about losing your penis or dying, so I don’t—”

“Cas. Focus.”

“Right. Watching men make out does not offend me, Dean.”

Dean’s hope surged until Cas continued speaking.

“It doesn’t particularly excite me either. I’m demisexual, strictly speaking, though I wouldn’t say I have a predisposition toward any gender specifically.”

Dean had sagged and then felt buoyed a little. But then he decided, Cas had just gone through something awful. Cas was feeling vulnerable because he felt humiliated. If Dean couldn’t open himself up now and make himself vulnerable, when could he? Besides which, if Cas rejected him, well, they’d both want to put the day in the past and move on as friends without speaking of it, so it was safer, right?

“I guess what I’m really asking, Cas, is whether you’d want to go to dinner with me some time. On a date.” Dean could feel his skin melting off from the heat of his embarrassment, but he sat quietly, forcing himself to look Cas in the face.

He saw it in those blue eyes before Cas spoke, though. They lit up with surprise and just a hint of joy.

“Dean, I’d like that very much.” He gave Dean his rare gummy smile.

Now Dean was melting for a different reason. “Yeah?”

“Yes. Though—you’re not just asking because you feel sorry for me about the... bee people... are you?”

“What? No. Absolutely not. I’ve wanted to ask for a long time, I just... didn’t know how. I wasn’t sure if you liked dudes and just... you know. Didn’t wanna risk our friendship.”

Cas leaned back into the couch, obviously starting to relax. “I never... well, you know how I am with social things. I didn’t become attracted to you right away, of course, but once I did, well, I didn’t know how to ask. And, since you hadn’t... well, I mean, you’re so forward when you want to go out with people that I figured you must not be into me.”

“I’m only forward when I know it’s a sure thing, Cas. All those women you’ve seen me hit on, I knew they were into me. The guys were always a little trickier, but same deal. But you... you’re a whole different beast, man. You don’t act like other people—which is fucking great, actually. It just means it’s harder to read what you want.”

Cas smiled again, more softly this time. “As it happens, my evening has cleared up, if you’d like to have that date right now.”

“Oh, _hell_ yeah,” Dean said, grinning.

He stood up and waited for Cas to do the same before heading for the door. Cas stopped him when he was halfway there.

“Oh, Dean?”

“Yeah?” he asked, turning around. To his surprise Cas was right behind him.

“Just one more thing before we go,” Cas said.

Then Cas was bringing their mouths together and absolutely everything was right with the world as those thick, perfect lips rubbed across his own. When tongues came into play, Dean forgot everything else that had happened in the last forty-five minutes. All he knew was that moment in time, that mouth against his own.

“ _Cas_ ,” he groaned as they pulled apart.

“Come on, Dean,” Cas said, walking ahead to the door. “I’m hungry.” The grin he gave then was feral. “And you’ll need your strength for when we get back here later.”

When later arrived, and they lay sated and sweaty in the middle of Cas’s bed, Dean huffed a laugh. “Thank God for bees,” he said, gratitude genuine.

“They’re vital to our survival, Dean,” Cas said primly.

Dean rolled his head toward Cas. “’S how I feel about you, Cas.”

He wasn’t even sure what had made him say it, but the return of the gummy smile kept him from being able to regret it for even a nanosecond.

“I love you too, Dean.”

So yeah, Dean was pretty grateful to the fucking bees.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *boops your nose* Hey you. ♥


	2. Simple Tastes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enemies to friends to lovers. With detours.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had intended to write one of the others, but this one kind of jumped up and started shouting at me, so here you are. Check the new rating, if you please.

Dean’s whole life was shot to hell just because stupid Sam decided to get married.

Not that Dean didn’t love Jess, but all the girl’s stupid friends were stupid vegans and lack of burgers was stupid and that wasn’t even the worst part. No, not having a cheeseburger or a steak or even freaking _chicken_ wasn’t stupid enough. Sam and Jess had to go and hire the hottest man in the world as their freaking chef, just because he was some vegan guru or something.

Not that Dean was having a crisis about it or anything. Because he wasn’t. He just, you know, had sworn off relationships for a while after his last breakup... and then along comes Mister Hot Herbivore and where did that leave Dean? Sure, he’d dated guys before, but he’d never been successful in relationships with ‘em, anyway, even before he went off relationships—too much testosterone and not enough compromise—and he was certain that Cas Chuckson was a relationship kind of guy.

Because of all of that, he’d been trying to avoid the guy as much as possible. And when it wasn’t possible, he tried to play it cool. The line between acting uninterested and acting like a complete dick, however, well... turned out it was a hard line to walk. And he’d pissed off Sam _and_ Jess, in addition to Cas himself.

So now Sam and Jess were forcing him to go to a tasting for all the dishes that would be served at the wedding. The kicker, naturally, was that he and Cas would be the only ones there. He was supposed to not only apologize but “make nice with the pretty man.” Of course, he should have known that Sam and Jess would see right through him and know exactly why he was being so weird.

He’d been at Cas’s for about fifteen minutes, and so far all he’d managed to do was piss the guy off more by spilling a glass of wine on his carpet. He’d apologized for _that_ , even if he hadn’t made the bigger apology yet, but it didn’t help. Wasn’t even his fault. Cas had a cat, which no one had warned him about so that he could take allergy meds, and so he’d sneezed. In doing so, he’d not only spilled the—dark, red—wine, but also scared the cat. Now Cas was mad about all sorts of things and this night was getting worse by the second. He had to eat vegan food next, make an apology, and also try not to think about how bad he wanted to kiss the frown right off Cas’s gorgeous mouth.

“Who needs feelings, man? They just get in the damn way,” he mumbled to himself as he waited at Cas’s dining room table for the first dishes to be brought out.

“Did you say something?” Cas asked as he walked through the swinging door from the kitchen.

“Just that I can’t wait to try this stuff,” Dean said, trying a smile on for size. He thought it didn’t quite fit on his face.

Cas rolled his eyes. “Dean, I am well aware that you don’t enjoy a lack of meat. No need to mock me.”

“Dude, I wasn’t! I just—” He sighed heavily. Might as well get it over with. “Look, can we start over? I’m really sorry for how I’ve been acting. It’s not you, at all. I think you’re great. It’s not even the vegan thing. I actually respect that, even though I can’t do it. I just... I’ve got a lot of crap happening in my head and you got caught in the middle. I wasn’t _trying_ to be a dick, I swear.”

Cas stared at him for a long moment, then slowly nodded. “All right. Apology accepted. Let’s try to start fresh.”

Dean’s smile fit just fine this time. “Thanks, man. I really appreciate it.” He clapped his hands and rubbed them together. “Now, what’s the first course? I’m starving.”

“The appetizer is a chilled spicy mango and sweet potato soup. Enjoy.” He set the dish down in front of Dean and smiled before stepping back.

Dean was wary, but he tried his best to look excited. The food was all sort of chunky and shiny and he wasn’t sure how he felt about cold soup. Still, he had a chef to win over. He dipped his spoon in and drew up a hefty bite. He put it in his mouth and—after the initial weirdness of the cold and the texture—his taste buds took over and his eyes grew round in shock. He chewed and swallowed quickly.

“Dude, this is awesome! Holy crap!” He continued eating, knowing that Cas was pleased.

“I’ll bring out the next course while you finish.” Cas looked amused as he said it.

Dean was pleasantly surprised by most of the dishes. The one exception had been the vegan cheese course. That one he couldn’t fake enjoyment of, no matter how much he didn’t want to piss Cas off. However, Cas just shrugged.

“Vegan cheese is an acquired taste, I suppose.”

“You’re not mad?”

“Of course not. You’re being very open-minded and you haven’t refused to try anything. It isn’t as though you like all non-vegan food either, right?”

“Well, no. There’s lots of food I don’t like, actually.”

“See? Nothing personal against me and my vegan cheese, then.” Cas smiled. “I think you’ll like this next dish, though. Your brother assured me it would be to your taste.”

Dean kind of thought he must be hallucinating when Cas brought out the next thing. No matter how many times he blinked, though, there was still a burger sitting in front of him.

“Uh... pretty sure beef ain’t vegan, Cas.”

“Uh, pretty sure that ain’t beef, Dean.” Cas’s imitation of him was not even close.

“What? No, that’s beef. Gotta be. Smells like it, for sure.”

“Why don’t you taste it and see what you think?”

Dean warily took a bite, expecting either to prove Cas wrong and find out it was greasy beef or be horrified by the taste of vegetables where he expected meat. Instead, while he could tell it wasn’t a greasy cheeseburger, he was pleasantly surprised by the flavor.

“Wow,” he said, half a bite still in his mouth. “Cas, that’s so good, man. I mean, it’s not a burger, but... it’s so good.”

“Thank you. I’m glad you like it.”

Cas didn’t look smug, as Dean might have expected. Instead, he just looked really pleased and maybe a little bit surprised, like he hadn’t actually thought he could impress Dean. Dean shrugged it off and finished the burger while Cas went to get the final course. Sam and Jess weren’t doing the whole traditional cake thing, so the last course was going to be some kind of dessert.

“Cas,” Dean said in awe. “Cas, that’s a _pie_.”

“Well, yes. Fruit pie is one of the easiest things to make a vegan version of. All I have to do is substitute vegetable oil for butter in the crust and the rest is simple.”

“Could you do pecan too?” Dean asked, eyes still on the pie and mouth practically drooling.

“Well, yes, though it requires a little more substitution, given that it usually requires eggs.”

Cas set the pie down in front of him and—bless the beautiful man—handed him nothing but a fork. Then he smiled.

“I’m given to understand that you will have no trouble finishing this, despite the full meal you’ve just consumed.”

“You’re not going to have any?”

Cas shrugged. “I hadn’t planned to, no.”

“Come on, Cas. Sit with me and have a piece of pie.”

Cas looked very surprised. “You’d really want me to sit with you? Share your pie, even?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“Dean, you have alternately avoided me or been rude for the entirety of our short acquaintance. I know you said it wasn’t me, but I still assumed you didn’t want to spend more time around me than was necessary.” He shook his head. “I’ll get another fork.”

Dean watched him walk away and realized he hadn’t done a very good job of apologizing, if Cas still thought he didn’t want to spend time with him. No wonder the guy kept leaving the room all night, once he got Dean’s initial response. He hadn’t with the burger, but that was probably because Dean had scarfed it down so fast.

When Cas came back, Dean said, “Look, man. I need to explain....” He sighed, taking the knife and plate Cas offered and cutting Cas a generous slice. “I wasn’t avoiding you because I didn’t want to spend time with you. It was, you know, kinda, I don’t know, like... the opposite?” He cringed internally at how awkward he was being.

Cas gave him a flat look. “What?”

Dean made a frustrated growl. “I _liked_ you, Cas. You’re one of the hottest people I’ve ever seen in my life. And I don’t do well with relationships in general, but with guys in particular, and I knew you would be a relationship guy and I just—fuck, this sounds so totally stupid, doesn’t it? I’m such an idiot.”

“Well... I mean, I suppose it might be bad form to sleep with the chef for your brother’s wedding and have it go south. Chefs are very vindictive people.” He sounded sincere, but there was a twinkle in his eye.

“You’re mocking me. I tell you you’re hot and you’re mocking me.”

Cas gave him an exasperated shake by the shoulders. “Dean, I have been mad for _weeks_ because you’re so frustratingly sexy I want to slam you against a wall and hump your leg every time I see you and yet you seemed to hate me.” He grinned. “Of course I’m mocking you now that I find out it’s mutual.”

“I never said I wanted to hump your leg.”

Cas shrugged. “It was implied.”

“I’ll imply your face,” Dean muttered.

“I’d rather you humped my leg,” Cas said, challenge obvious.

Dean swallowed hard. “Yeah?”

The next thing he knew, he had a lap full of Cas and a mouth full of tongue that wasn’t his. He couldn’t say he minded it. He wasn’t exactly able to hump Cas’s leg from this position, but Cas seemed to be finding ways to bring friction to his aching erection anyway.

“Why are you so attractive?” Cas growled when he came up for air, clutching Dean’s face in his hands. “It’s infuriating.”

“Dude, I chose kissing you over _pie_. Pretty sure the feeling’s mutual.”

Cas responded to that by grinding their erections together in a way that had Dean moaning.

“You got a bed in this place?”

“Presumptuous,” Cas chastised.

“Nah. I can always go back to eating pie....”

“Follow me,” Cas said, rising and taking Dean’s hand.

They made it to the bedroom fully dressed, but once they got there, Cas shoved Dean back onto the bed and started rucking up Dean’s T-shirt and his own, strictly for the feel of their skin together as they kissed. It was awesome and it was hot as fuck.

They kissed like they were drugged, going back for more, over and over again. Their hands roamed and their bodies writhed, but their mouths stayed more or less locked together for what seemed like hours. Finally, they were both so close to the brink that Cas finally unbuttoned first his own pants and then Dean’s. He put Dean’s hand on his erection and then reciprocated by grabbing Dean’s cock.

They didn’t break the kiss to do any of that, but once they started rocking into each other’s fist, the kisses decreased until they were mostly sharing ragged breaths next to each other’s face.

“Fuck, Cas,” Dean panted. “So good. Not gonna last long.”

Cas did a little trick with his wrist that kept Dean from saying anything else for several strokes. All he could manage was a series of gasps and cries. Cas himself was no better under Dean’s ministrations, though his sounds were gruffer and deeper. Dean could feel the tight curl of orgasm building in his belly, waited to unspring.

“Close, Cas. So close,” he murmured against Cas’s cheek.

Cas kissed him again, slow and deep this time. Cas did that wrist thing again and sped up his strokes too. Dean’s stamina was no match for the combination and he was soon crying out into Cas’s mouth, orgasm bursting through him like a storm. He was coherent enough to notice that Cas came too, but only just. He was frankly surprised he’d remembered to keep stroking him, lost in his bliss as he had been.

“Fuck, Cas, that was....”

“Mmm,” Cas agreed.

Cas lifted up only enough to remove his shirt and use it to clean them both up. Then he lay back down on top of Dean, pressing a kiss to the hollow at the base of his throat before settling slightly off to the side. Dean’s arms came up and wrapped around him. It felt natural. It felt nice.

“Stay,” Cas said.

“Pfft,” Dean said, already half asleep. “Like I’d leave without pie.”

“Dean?” Cas murmured against Dean’s collarbone.

“Hm?” He was barely conscious at all.

“I’m not actually vegan. I just cook for vegans.”

“Oh, thank God,” Dean said sincerely.

Tired as he was, he could still feel Cas’s smile against his chest.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I fed you filthy animals your smut, so I hope you're grateful. Let me know in the comments. Also, I love you. Have you taken your meds? Drunk enough water? Eaten recently? Is it time for bed? Take care of yourself. Your Dimps is worried about you. ♥


	3. Encrypted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Revisiting the past leads to discovering the future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I shouldn't be allowed near writing implements. I need to be stopped.

“Why the hell would you wanna go back to the crypt, Cas? That place ain’t exactly got happy memories for me.”

“Dean, I’m human now, but I still remember my angelic transgressions. What I did to you there... I have a mountain of guilt over it. However, I need to go back and see if there might be anything else of value in that room. We never checked when we took the tablet.” He picked at a thread on his coat. “Besides, I also have the very fond memory of how you saved me in that crypt. You broke Naomi’s hold on me with your lo—” Cas cleared his throat suddenly to cover his near-slip. “When you said you ‘needed’ me.”

Dean pursed his lips. “Yeah, all right. I mean, when you healed me, that was great, but you took off after that and fucking left me there, man.” He sighed and stared into the distance. Finally, he nodded. “All right. You wanna leave right now?”

Cas yawned in answer. “I think tomorrow will be soon enough.” He gave a small wave and walked toward his room in the bunker.

When he got to his bed, he tried not to think about April or how he wished she’d been different. He also tried not to think about how he wished she had been Dean. Dean didn’t seem to share his feelings, despite his declaration of love—or need, as he’d actually said, even though Cas could hear the intention as well as the words. The love Dean felt toward Cas was different, he thought, than what Cas himself felt.

Not that Castiel had understood just what he was feeling for Dean until after he’d fallen and become human. Human emotions were known of by angels, but they weren’t known and understood. Castiel thought it much the same as the difference between seeing the painting of Mona Lisa and having actually met Mona Lisa in life and known her as a person. One, though recognizably beautiful, was flat and two dimensional. The other was unbound by simple dimensions. Knowing the surface, at any rate, did not quantify the whole and such was the way of human emotion. Seeing did not mean _knowing_.

Cas had been undressing as he had these thoughts, but now he lay down on his bed, clad only in his plain white boxers. He wondered if Dean wore anything at all. Castiel knew that sometimes Dean slept nude when he was in the bunker—though never so when staying in a motel, even when alone. The bunker, Castiel reflected, had provided Dean a freedom and a feeling of security that he’d found nowhere else since the death of his mother. It was pleasing to see.

He was weary when he got into bed, but he found sleep elusive. He hadn’t on the streets, but things were different now. He didn’t spend every moment on his survival, so he wasn’t living mostly on primal instinct. It made for a less peaceful mind. He thought there were profound issues therein, if only he were up to the contemplation.

Tonight, he was not. He only wanted sleep. In sleep, he might dream of Dean, in all the ways he couldn’t have him in waking life. It was a guilty pleasure, but one which he welcomed openly. He had been denied much in the way of comfort since becoming human. He thought it only fair then that he allowed himself indulgences when he could.

He was in the middle of one of those delicious dreams when real life Dean put a hand on his shoulder and shook him gently.

“Time to get up, Cas. I wanna get a move on before it gets too light. I’d like to get back before dark, if we can.”

Wearily, Cas forced himself out of bed.

“Whoa there, Sparky! Put that away!”

Dean’s voice was jovial, but there was an edge to it that Cas couldn’t place until he saw the pink coloration of Dean’s cheeks and ears. Dean was embarrassed. It took Castiel a moment to realize that in sleep two things had occurred. The first was that he’d become aroused and erect. The second was that his erection had escaped the front opening of his boxers and was standing free.

“My apologies,” he said, tucking himself back into his shorts.

“Yeah, that doesn’t really—you know what? I’m gonna wait in the kitchen till you’re ready, all right? You get dressed and we’ll have breakfast and go.”

With that, Dean was gone and Castiel was alone again. He knew humans were very self-conscious—primarily because of the story of Genesis in the Bible, he assumed—but having never suffered the human fall of original sin, he felt no shame at the form his father had created. His or anyone else’s. Regardless, he threw on some jeans and a T-shirt, thankful that his erection flagged during his search for pants.

He found Dean in the kitchen, making waffles and scrambled eggs.

“Hey, Cas. I know you like ‘em over easy instead of scrambled, but I’m not too good at fried ones yet. Sammy always liked scrambled and so did Dad, so I never really practiced making them any other way. Don’t worry. I’ll get it eventually.”

Castiel smiled, pleased that Dean cared about his breakfast choices as much as he cared about Sam’s.

“It’s all right. I appreciate breakfast I don’t have to stand in line or beg for or cook myself. Egg preference is hardly important when compared to such things.”

He realized instantly that he’d said the wrong thing. Dean tensed up and turned away. Guilt, Cas knew, was eating Dean up inside. As if Dean was responsible for all his time on the streets.

“Dean. You didn’t make me homeless. That happened when I trusted Metatron and lost my grace. When Gadreel made you kick me out of here, that wasn’t your fault either. You did what you had to do to save your brother, as you have always done. I do not blame you for anything. Becoming Steve, the Gas-n-Sip clerk, is a memory that I treasure. I did honorable work. I could help people in little ways that sometimes make all the difference. I don’t regret any of those times. Being homeless taught me a lot about myself. It also,” he said, grabbing Dean by the arm and turning him around. “Taught me to appreciate my friends and the things they do to show me that they care. Like making breakfast when I could have made do with the cereal I know they have in abundance.”

Dean’s eyes were suspiciously red, but he nodded. “Yeah. Okay. I get it. It’s hard not hating myself for kicking you out, though, man.”

“Don’t. I _was_ angry. At first. But when I needed you, you were there. And that’s all one can ask from a friend, isn’t it?”

Dean rolled his eyes and thrust a plate at Cas. “Eat your damn eggs and waffles, man.”

He loaded up his own plate and stomped to the table to sit down, pouring enough syrup on that Cas was momentarily reminded of Gabriel. Then he started to eat, so Castiel did the same.

The car ride to the crypt was relatively uneventful. They listened to classic rock. Talked of this and that, but nothing of import was discussed. Cas fell just that much more in love with his best friend. A more or less standard day since Cas had fallen and come back to the bunker for the second time, in other words.

“All right, looks like we’re here,” Dean said, pulling up to the building. “You sure you wanna do this?”

“Yes, Dean. I’d have stopped you well before now if I had doubts.”

“I know, man, I’m just asking to stall for time ‘cause I really _don’t_ wanna do this.”

Cas studied Dean curiously. “You’re much more honest than you used to be.”

Dean shrugged a shoulder. “Maybe. I’ve always been pretty honest with you. Compared to how I am with Sam, anyway. And, I don’t know. You’re human now. I guess I figure you get stuff now that maybe you didn’t before.”

“I suppose that makes sense.” He glanced up at the unassuming entrance to the crypt. “You don’t have to accompany me, if it’s too upsetting for you.”

Dean snorted. “Of course I’m coming with, Cas. Don’t be stupid.” So saying, he got out of the Impala and waited by the hood for Cas to join him.

When Castiel was an angel, his grace afforded him just that when it came to movement—grace. He was rather lithe and light-footed when he was angelic, not subject to the fumbles and clumsiness that so plagued many humans. Now that he was one of the “mud monkeys”—as Lucifer had called humanity—such was not the case. He stumbled frequently, having lost that permanent awareness of where every molecule of his person was at any given time, now that it was no longer required to hold him on two planes of existence simultaneously.

It was due to this lack of grace of movement that Cas tripped, almost immediately upon entering the first room of the crypt. He didn’t see as well in the dark as his angelic sight had allowed him, and he didn’t give himself time to adjust to the darkness before trying to move. As such, his foot caught on something unseen on the shadowed floor and he went sprawling forward, arm colliding and tangling with an unknown object just as he hit the floor.

When Dean turned the flashlight—which he’d wisely been looking for while Cas foolishly decided to move forward in the dark—toward him, Castiel could see that he was elbow-deep in the pelvis of a prone skeleton. As an angel he’d have known to whom the bones belonged, how long the person had lived, how they’d died.

As a human, all he knew was his arm was where the person’s ass had once been. A fact which Dean was very quick to point out, accompanied by what Cas deemed excessive laughter.

“Dude!” Dean bent over at the waist as the mirth took him. “You’re—you’re fisting that skeleton! I mean—” At this, Dean had to stop talking he was laughing so hard, but he all too quickly resumed. “You’re boning his bones!”

At first, Cas’s predicament had him getting huffy with annoyance at Dean’s levity. It happened to hurt when your arm slammed into someone’s pelvis and also concrete at high speeds. However, seeing Dean laugh—especially in this place and after the year they’d had—it softened Cas’s annoyance into fondness. He decided, however, that some teasing of his own might be in order.

“And just what, pray tell, do you know about fisting, Dean? I thought your fetishes were fairly narrowly limited to large breasted women from the East. I’m pretty sure fisting is not covered in the pages of Busty Asian Beauties or even on their website.” He smirked and was rewarded with the slow transformation of Dean’s laughter into surprise and then mild embarrassment.

“Shut up,” Dean said, but there was a small smile playing at his mouth. “I know who Mapplethorpe is. I read.”

“I think you mean ‘I’m a pervert whose interests in pornography are quite varied.’”

“Dick!” Dean accused.

“Yes, I’m sure there are many of those in the porn you watch. Often more than one and with no involvement of other genitalia.”

Dean gave him a flat look. “That is the lamest way anyone has ever accused me of watching gay porn.”

“Am I wrong?” Cas challenged with a raised eyebrow.

“Uh, no? You’ve been in my head, so you know the answer. Not really playing fair.” He cleared his throat and rubbed his neck in the endearing way he did when he felt awkward. “So, you need help getting up?”

“No, the porn usually does the trick—”

“Cas, dammit!” Dean yelled, really embarrassed now. “Fine, get off the floor yourself.”

Cas relented. “I would appreciate a hand, Dean. My arm seems to be stuck.”

“Karma, dude.” Dean rolled his eyes. “Didn’t really expect my day to include helping former angels get their hands unstuck from dead dudes asses.”

“This could be a woman, you know.”

“Nah, pelvis is all wrong.” For some reason, when he realized what he’d said, Dean looked more embarrassed.

“Perhaps it’s more than your pornographic interests which are quite varied. Nothing to be ashamed of in that, Dean.”

Dean ignored him and instead worked at getting Cas’s arm unstuck. When he was done, the two of them were vary close and nearly holding hands. When Cas realized how close their faces were, he turned toward Dean slightly, suddenly needing to _know_ if there was any chance that Dean could—oh.

Dean closed the gap easily and lightening fast. One second they were apart and the next, their lips were fused. Dean tasted like salt and sugar from their earlier meal and the soda he’d drunk on the way here. His mouth was plush but firm and he didn’t seem to be pulling back. Cas risked opening his mouth and Dean’s kiss flowed in like water occupying a new space.

When they finally came up for air, Cas felt dazed. He hadn’t expected Dean to actually kiss him. He’d expected rejection, not acquiescence. He stared up into green eyes filled with sorrow and regret.

“Sorry, Cas. I know you don’t—sorry.”

“Don’t what? Dean, I kissed you back. What did you think that meant?”

“But you—I mean, _April_ ,” Dean said, as if that explained what he was talking about.

Cas stared for a moment, then laughed. “You think because of what happened with April that means I’m _straight_?” He rolled his eyes and stepped back. “Dean, we’ve literally just been discussing your own fluid sexuality. Did you really think that _I_ , who in my original form did not even possess a gender, would be any less capable of fluidity?”

Dean opened and closed his mouth a few times before the frown line between his brows started to smooth out. He gestured between Cas and himself, eyes beginning to show hope at last.

“So this. You could want this? Want me?”

“Could. Do. Have for a long time. Dean, when you knelt here on the floor and expressed your ne—no. No, I won’t pretend it was need. Your _love_ for me... it broke through Naomi’s hold because, for the first time, some part of me started to realize what these feelings I had for you were. I didn’t fully understand until I fell, but I do understand now, Dean. I love you. If you’ll have me—”

“Shit, Cas. That’s a stupid question. I already told you that I’d rather have you by my side, didn’t I? This life... you know what it is. You know the uncertainty. Nobody gets a promise of tomorrow, but for hunters, it’s twice as likely to not come. But while I’m kicking... yeah, Cas. I’ll have you, if you’re sure this is what you want. Every time you leave it’s like a piece of me is gone. You think I don’t love you back?”

“I did think that. Now I am beginning to suspect I was wrong,” Cas said, a small smile starting to form.

“Damn right you were wrong. Just as wrong as I was. Figured an angel couldn’t love a nasty mudbug like me.” Dean grinned. “Guess we all have our weird fetishes, huh?”

Cas looked around. “Having sex in a crypt is not one of them. Let’s go home.”

“You know... Sam and I always considered Baby our home....” Dean trailed off, eyebrows raised.

Realization dawned slowly, but when it did, Cas snatched Dean by the hand and dragged him outside, no longer unsurely footed in the slightest. By the time they were done and Dean was complaining about stains on the upholstery, Cas was pretty sure he’d never been happier, angel or human.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just kidding! Writing is everything. Comments are my lifeblood. Feed me kisses to earn the next installment. I LOVE YOU ♥♥♥


	4. It Comes at the End of a Sentence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas answers Deanna's calls of distress.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't even know what happened here. I have no excuses.

“Oh, my God. Cas? Cas! Can you come to the door, please?” Deana called from the bathroom.

“What is it that you need?” Cas asked from the other side of the door, in her thick Russian accent.

“I’ve started my stupid period and my tampon box is empty. I don’t suppose you have any?”

“Deana. I don’t use feminine hygiene products of this kind. I use what you call Diva’s cup. You should use it too. I will go buy.”

“What? No. Cas! I don’t want that vegan hippy crap! Just bring me a bunch of paper towels, would you? Then I’ll go out and get my own damn tampons.”

“No! I will go. I will get your wasteful products. Will only take a few minutes. Back in a jiffy.”

Deana snorted at the way Cas said “jiffy,” though it was the only humorous part of this situation. This was a surprise period or she wouldn’t have been caught without like this. She had tampons and pads on the grocery list, and she’d intended to head out to the store first thing in the morning. She’d had no warning at all. Just bam! Blood when she peed. Woohoo. Super fun.

She sat there waiting impatiently, wondering if she wanted to risk ruining a towel, so that her ass didn’t fall asleep on the toilet and she could get up. Unfortunately, that’s when the cramping hit.

“Hot bath it is,” she groaned, stepping out of her shorts.

Carefully standing up, she hobbled across to the tub as best she could, trying not to leak on the floor in the process. She poured a ton of shampoo into the water so she could have a bubble bath, then turned on the water as hot as she could stand. While the tub was filling up, she used a wad of toilet tissue to stem the tide. It felt disgusting and she couldn’t wait for the sweet release of the warm bath. Another round of cramps hit and she doubled up, groaning, until they passed for the moment.

She stripped out of her bra and shirt, then gingerly removed and threw away the paper she’d had to stop the leaking. She stepped into the tub, gasping a bit at the warmth. Finally, she sank down through the soft bubbles and into the hot water underneath. Her cramps almost instantly went away. She knew it wouldn’t last long after she got out of the tub, but hopefully, they’d be less severe after the relaxing bath.

She leaned back and closed her eyes, letting herself drift in and out of awareness. She was shaken awake by three rapid knocks, and she shot forward in the water as the door opened and Cas strode through. Her breasts were just below the bubble line, so she didn’t bother to try covering herself.

“Here, I get you the—oh. You are in bath.” Cas’s voice went from confident to almost shy and a bit reverent.

“Well, yeah. Best way to get rids of cramps. I mean, sure, there’s ibuprofen, but that takes a while. Kinda makes me nauseous too. I try to avoid it.”

“You are... naked,” Cas said, licking her lips nervously.

Deanna was confused and she frowned at her friend. “Well, _yeah_. Kinda hard to take a bath otherwise, dude.”

Cas nodded without speaking, then swallowed very obviously. She looked like she wanted to say something, but she didn’t speak for a full minute, just staring at Deanna.

“Dude, _what_?” Deanna asked, almost but not quite snapping.

“Masturbation is very good for cramping. You have vibrator? I show you.”

That was just about the last thing Deanna had expected to hear. It wasn’t unwelcome, it was just unexpected. And given her track record with relationships and feelings talks, she wasn’t sure how to proceed.

“Uh.” _Great start, dumbass_.”

Cas stared for another minute, then started blushing. “I’m sorry. Was inappropriate for me to suggest. I leave you to bathing.” She turned to go, taking the bag in her hands with her.

“Wait, Cas. Cas!” Deanna waited until Cas turned around. “Did you buy me some tampons?”

Cas looked confused for a moment before her face cleared. “Oh! Oh, yes. I also get you diva cup, just in case you want to try to save planet.”

Deanna rolled her eyes. “Give it here.” She took the bag from Cas, then set it next to her on the floor. “Thanks, man, I owe you.” She cleared her throat as the staring got awkward. “And as for the, um, suggestion... maybe after my bath?”

To say Cas’s face lit up was an exaggeration, but her face got as expressive as it ever did, the joy easily seen by someone as well-versed in reading Cas as Deanna was. Cas nodded quickly.

“Yes, maybe after bath is good,” Cas said, smiling shyly. “I go. Let you bathe.”

Deanna watched her walk through the door and close it behind her. This was going to be an interesting night. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I MISS ALL YOUR FACES EVEN THE FACES I'VE NEVER SEEN
> 
> So, say hi, and stuff.
> 
> ♥♥♥


	5. Add it up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trust is the basis of any relationship. Especially relationships involving blindfolds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been forever! I'm sorry. I still love you.

“Dean, we need to study.”

“Come on, Cas. I’m bored. Plus, there’s something I wanna talk to you about.”

Cas looked sympathetic, but he sighed and shook his head no.

“Dean, if I don’t pass this math test, my parents are going to ship me to boarding school for the rest of senior year and then we won’t be able to talk about anything except on the phone or Skype.”

“If I promise to help you study after? It won’t take long, I swear.”

Cas groaned and Dean knew he had won the argument.

“Awesome! Now. What’s your safe word, Cas?”

“My what?”

“Your safe word.”

“Why do I need—Dean, we are not having—”

“I know, I know! No sex before studying. This isn’t for that.” Dean pulled the silk rope out of his pocket.

“Where did you—”

“What. Is. Your. Safe. Word.”

“Moonbeam.”

Dean couldn’t help his snort. Probably any more than Cas could help the death glare he gave in response to Dean’s snort.

“I’m sorry. Moonbeam, it is.” He shook the rope. “You trust me?”

Cas nodded, blue eyes wide. “I trust you.”

Dean gently grabbed Cas’s left hand and wound part of the rope around it. He secured it to the chair and then grabbed the other hand and repeated the process in reverse. When Dean was finished, he reached into another pocket and drew out a black satin blindfold, holding it up where Cas could see. Dean raised in eyebrows in silent question.

Once again, Cas nodded. “It’s fine.”

Dean smiled and kissed Cas’s forehead before gently putting the blindfold in place. Then he took the eyeliner out of yet another pocket and set it on the table. He reached out slowly and started undoing the top button of Cas’s shirt.

“Hey, what—”

“Do you trust me?” Dean repeated.

Cas relaxed back and nodded a third time. Dean slowly unbuttoned Cas’s entire shirt and slid it off his shoulders. Cas’s breath hitched and he licked his puffy lips, making them shine, but otherwise, he was silent and still. Dean took a second to drink in the beauty of Cas’s dusky nipples and the lines of his torso.

Dean picked up the eyeliner. “All right, now this may tickle, so let me know when you need a break, okay?”

“Okay.”

Dean pretended not to see that Cas was getting hard in his jeans and instead bent down and started to write, upside down, on Cas’s belly. It was a little tricky, since Cas was hunched forward a little and the small amount of fat on his stomach was rolling. Dean asked him to lean back, helping Cas get comfortable with his tied arms. Satisfied that Cas’s stomach was flatter now, he started to write again.

It took him ten minutes because he wanted to get it right. He was careful with each letter and drew it slowly and methodically. He may have noticed that Cas’s breathing quickened with every pencil stroke and deliberately drawn it out to make sure Cas was a mess by the time he was done, but who could prove that?

“Okay, done. I’m going to take off your blindfold and undo your hands now, all right? But don’t touch your stomach or chest or look at it till I say, promise?”

“I promise, Dean.” Cas’s voice was deep with obvious arousal.

Dean had a feeling this little stunt was going to mean they both stayed up late studying, but he figured it would be worth it.

He removed the bindings and blindfold. Cas looked at him, pupils dark. When Cas licked his lips, Dean wanted to take advantage with a kiss, but this was important, so he held firm.

“Okay, Cas. You can look now.”

“’You adjacent over hypotenuse....’ Dean? What is this?”

“Just read it, man. I went to a lot of trouble here.”

“Fine, but I need pencil and paper.”

Dean got him a notebook and pen. There was a lot of frowning, but eventually, Cas worked out the meaning, and a smile broke across his face as he wrote the whole thing down:

_YOU COSINE’D MY HEART. IT’S A SINE WE ARE MEANT TO BE. DON’T MEAN TO GO ON A TANGENT, BUT IT’S ONLY RATIONAL FOR YOU TO GO TO PROM WITH ME._

“Yes, Dean. I’ll go to prom with you.” He tugged Dean down for a kiss.

“What about that no sex before studying rule?” Dean gasped when they came up for air a few minutes later.

Cas shrugged. “We already did some math. I think we earned a break.”

“You are _such_ a math nerd,” Dean said, grinning. “Totally called it.”

“Dean? Shut up and get naked.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know. I'm a horrible tease. The worst. You like it, though. Because you know if you're good, I'll give you a reward.
> 
> I've missed you!
> 
> Come say hi! Dimps needs some lovins. ♥


	6. Try Not to Forget

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When a seeming bully takes Cas's words out of context, Dean comes to Cas's rescue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What even am I? Sorry these are so slow to be posted. Inspiration comes when it comes.

“Are you saying you think I’m stupid?” the quarterback asked, bunching both fists in the front of Cas’s shirt.

“N-no, I—that wasn’t what I meant at all!” Cas stammered. He hadn’t been prepared for the very large football player to accost him. He’d thought his quote was innocuous enough—funny, even—but obviously, he’d said something horribly wrong.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! Easy there, tiger,” said a slightly southern voice from Cas’s left. “I don’t think the librarian was trying to offend you, Jones. He was just quoting the book you picked out.” Cas’s broad shouldered savior nodded at the copy of _Catcher in the Rye_ that Jones was holding, then turned to Cas with all the tongue-paralyzing power a pair of bright green eyes could possibly hold. “Right?”

“R-right. Yes. I’m sorry. I wasn’t mocking you at all. I’m sorry if that’s how it sounded.” Cas wasn’t without physical strength, but Jones was much larger than he was, and he had no interest in finding out who was stronger.

Jones looked back and forth between them for a moment before releasing the fists that held Cas’s shirt at last. He nodded, once.

“Okay, then. Sorry if I fucked up your shirt.” He rubbed the end of his nose. “Kinda sensitive about being called stupid.”

“I-it’s okay. Really.” Cas just wanted Jones to go away. Green eyes, on the other hand...

“You should go check out your book, Jones. It’s a good read,” Cas’s rescuer said.

“Yeah. Thanks, Dean. Sorry again, Casteel.”

“His name’s Castiel.”

Cas glanced sharply at this “Dean” person, but Dean stared straight at Jones.  
“Oh. Okay. Cool. Uh, later,” Jones said, finally leaving.

Cas and Dean stood side by side and watched him go. Cas could feel the tension drain from his body with every step Jones took away from him.

“Thank you, ah, Dean. How, um. How did you know my name?”

Dean looked hurt, which Cas found confusing.

“Man. You really don’t remember me?” He looked away, scratching absently at the back of his head. “Wow, um, this is kinda awkward, then, I guess.”

Cas frowned, knowing he would remember this green eyed Adonis named Dean if he’d met him before. _Unless... shit._

“Dean, I’m sorry, but if I met you during the first week of freshman year, I have a very good excuse.”

“Uh, okay. And what is that?”

“I had a massive head injury after what I am told was an ‘epic party,’” he said, using finger quotes.

Dean looked horrified. “We met at that party!” he said, fisting his hand in Cas’s shirt. “We—” Dean broke off and let go of Cas, suddenly shy again. “Well, I mean, this might freak you out or something, but we, um....” He trailed off, waving his hand in a circle that was meant to convey “Draw your own conclusions.”

It took a moment, but then Cas did, in fact, draw his own conclusion.

“Oh, my God. Did we—” He dropped his voice to a more library-appropriate volume. “—have sex?” His eyes were wide with shock. He wished—not for the first time, but the most strongly he ever had—that he’d never sustained that stupid concussion. If it hadn’t been for Crowley and his stupid antics...

“Uh, really, really _great_ sex. Man. At least I know why you never called me now.”

Cas frowned again. “You didn’t call me, either. You could have learned all of this much sooner.”

“Cas, I didn’t have your number! You made me write mine on your hand before you left.”

If he hadn’t believed Dean before, that solidified it. When he’d come to in the hospital, there’d still been a few random digits written on his hand in faded marker. He rubbed the spot, as his brain sent him a flash of... something. Not quite anything, but definitely not nothing. Something from that night that had stayed buried until now, he was almost certain.

“Kiss me,” he said, grabbing Dean’s shirt in his fist.

“W-what? I mean, sure, but... why now all of a sudden?”

“Because maybe it will jog my memory.”

Dean shrugged, pooching out his lips in a “Why not?” expression. Then he fisted his hand in Cas’s hair and pulled him close. Their lips met and fireworks exploded in Cas’s pelvic area. He made a noise low in his throat that he couldn’t have held in if his life had depended on it. Then Dean’s tongue swept onto the scene and Cas moved his hands from Dean’s shirt to his hair, latching onto great fistfuls of it as their mouths ravished each other.

Midway through the kiss, Cas breathed in, deeply. When he did, a hint of Dean’s cologne and the smell of his leather jacket wafted into Cas’s nostrils. Cas had read that the sense of smell was the one most closely related to memory and in that instant, he knew it to be true. Neural pathways that had been blocked since the first weeks of his freshman year were suddenly free of debris. A host of lost memories came flooding back.

Dean’s smile from across a living room. Green eyes boring into his soul. A freckled hand shyly taking his own. Supple pink lips being licked in preparation for a first kiss. Then less innocent memories. Deeper intimacies. Naked, sweaty memories.

“Dean,” Cas panted, breaking out of the kiss. “I need to go clock out.”

“Right now?” Dean whined.

“Yes. Otherwise I’ll get in trouble when you take me home.”

“Why am I taking you home?” Dean asked hopefully.

“So we can fuck like rabbits and jog my memory some more,” Cas said, dragging Dean back in for another kiss.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, over halfway done with these now? And you've only been waiting FOREVER. Come say hello! I love you, cheeky monkeys. ♥♥♥


	7. Reality Does More Than Bite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas didn't need that $200 after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy.

“Mr. Winchester, you _will_ tell us what we want to know,” Henrickson said.

“Oh, yeah? Or what?”

Castiel was trying to pay attention, he really was, but he couldn’t get the image of Dean Winchester being slammed up against the wall and cuffed out of his head. Winchester hadn’t looked frightened or angry in that moment, nor did it seem to cause him discomfort. No, what Castiel had seen in Dean’s eyes was something altogether different.

Victor Henrickson—Castiel’s FBI partner and some time friend—had roughed Winchester up... and Winchester had _liked_ it. What Castiel had seen on Dean’s face was arousal. Arousal that Castiel himself felt also in watching. And remembering.

“Castiel?” Henrickson said, evidently not for the first time.

“I’m sorry, what did you say?”

Victor leaned in close, concern on his face. “It’s not like you to daydream, man. You all right?”

“Y-yes, sorry. Something on my mind, that’s all. Did you ask me something?”

“He wanted to make sure you were capable of babysitting me while he goes to the men’s room to jerk it thinking about me,” Dean said, with a cocky grin.

“Sorry to disappoint you, Winchester, but you’re not my type. It may be as tiny as your brain, but you still have a penis.” Henrickson gave him a smirk. “Not really my thing.” With that, he turned back to Castiel. “Sit with him till I get back. I’ve got to go check out his story and from what I know, he’s entirely capable of escaping if we leave him alone, cuffs or no cuffs.”

Castiel watched Henrickson leave with no small amount of trepidation. Being alone with Dean was going to be difficult. All of Dean’s focus would be on Castiel. His flirting would be directed at Castiel too.

“So, Castiel, huh? What, did your parents lose a bet when you were born?”

“It’s... Biblical.”

Dean pursed his lips and assessed Castiel a little too thoroughly with his eyes.

“Mm. Now me, I’m named after the guy from _On The Road_. Not sure why because Dean Moriarty was based on Neal Cassidy, famous bisexual, and my old man was a macho, homophobic sonuvabitch, but maybe he missed that part of the text, huh?”

“I don’t think the passages referring to Moriarty’s sexual proclivities had been widely published at the time of your birth,” Castiel said, still trying not to picture Dean getting cuffed.

“So, how about you?”

“I’m sorry?” Castiel was thrown by the question. “I just told you who I was named after—”

“No, I mean, Henrickson is straight. Moriarty was bi like me. So, how about you, Castiel? Which team or teams you play for?”

Castiel swallowed hard, pinned in place by those green eyes. “I... I don’t, um....” He licked his lips, unable to keep his eyes off of Dean’s mouth. He cleared his throat and straightened. “You need to tell us what we want to know, Winchester,” Castiel said in his toughest voice.

“Oh, yeah? What are you gonna do if I don’t?” Dean asked, voice pitching low and sultry. He leaned forward, dropping to a whisper. “Spank me?”

Oxygen was suddenly in far too short a supply in the small room.

Dean’s smile was slow and triumphant. “Oh, you like that idea, don’t you, Castiel?” He was practically purring. “Liked watching me get slapped into these cuffs too, huh?” He leaned forward again. “So, how about it? Wanna spank me a little? See if I talk?”

Castiel stared at him, eyes wide and heart thundering before stammering. “S-stand up.”

“Excuse me?” Dean asked, but there was a glint of victory in his eyes.

“Stand up. And bend over the table.”

Dean grinned from ear to ear. “Yes, sir,” he said. He stood, making eye contact and holding it as he bent over at the waist and grabbed the edge of the table.

Shaking but determined not to lose this opportunity, Castiel removed his belt, walking around the table as he did so. “Tell me how you escaped last time, Dean.” He doubled the belt and held the ends in his right hand.

“Nope.”

The leather snapped as it shot forward, and then cracked as it connected with the jean-clad flesh of Dean’s lovely ass.

“Tell me.”

Castiel snapped the belt again, this time hard enough to make Dean jump, but Winchester only turned his head and looked backward at Castiel, pupils blown wide. He licked his lips and Castiel swung again, then twice more.

“Are you ready to talk?”

“I’ll tell you how much I want you to fuck me. Is that what you wanna know?”

“Yes. No! T-tell me about—”

“Come on, Castiel. _Cas._ Don’t lie to me. Not right now. I’m completely at your mercy. Least you could do is be honest with us both.”

Castiel took in the sight in front of him. Dean, bent at the waist, bowed legs spread wide, ass arched up, erection straining his jeans. His cheeks were flushed and his green eyes were black. His lips were full and reddened from all the licking and chewing he’d been doing. Instead of speaking, Castiel bent down and grabbed his head, pulling him forward.

Castiel claimed Dean’s mouth in a messy, wild kiss, all tongues and teeth and need.

“Please, Cas,” Dean begged. “I need it. Need it so bad.”

Suddenly, all Castiel could think about was seeing those reddened cheeks exposed in his kitchen, his bedroom. All he could picture was those lips, wrapped so sweetly around his throbbing erection. He pressed a hand against his aching crotch. Then he pulled the cuff keys from his pocket.

“Come on,” Cas said. “I’m taking you with me.”

Before he could get Dean out of the room, however, the screen went dark and a voice said, “I’m sorry, but your allotted time has expired. If you wish to continue your journey, please authorize another $200 charge to your credit card. Do you accept?”

Cas groaned in frustration. “No.”

He pulled off the virtual reality goggles and blinked as reality—which was a dirty back room of a seedy bar—resolved itself around him. He never seemed to get past the spanking. He always spent too long on the build up. How much money had he wasted on this fantasy so far? he wondered. Too much. He needed to give it up.

Cas was so focused on his disappointment and his desire to get home so he could take care of his raging erection, that he failed to see the man who walked through the doorway on the other side of the room, eyes glued to Cas. If he had, he’d have recognized his green-eyed best friend and the object of his recurring fantasy.

“Hey,” Dean asked the cashier in charge of the VR booths. “How much to watch the playback on the helmet from that guy who just left?”

“Aw, man, I don’t know. He special ordered his experience—”

“Is $1000 enough? You can keep the extra $800 for yourself, right?”

The guy nodded and took Dean’s credit card. Dean walked into the room Cas had just vacated. An hour later, he was standing outside Cas’s door with a shopping bag in each hand. He knocked and waited.

“Dean?” Castiel said, looking flushed. “Were we, um, supposed to get together?”

Dean smiled, slow and deliberate. “Oh, I definitely think so. But just in case you aren't sure, I brought this,” Dean said, pulling out a pair of handcuffs. “And this,” he said, extracting a leather paddle.

“What—”

“I followed you. To the bar. I watched your VR playback.”

Castiel flushed bright red. “I—I—oh, God. Dean you weren’t supposed to see—”

“Cas,” Dean said, slow and low, taking Cas by one shoulder. “Do you want this? Because I want this. I want your fantasy to become reality. Whaddya say?”

Ten minutes later, they both realized the reality was far, far superior to the fantasy.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before you yell at me, remember the tag was "softcore." I don't make the rules. ~~except for how this was my idea and I could technically do what I want.~~ Come say hi! Also, check out [my author page for book and blog updates. ♥](https://tinyurl.com/yczd729a)


	8. The Untouchables

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All Dean knew was that, if anyone had ever needed rescuing, it was that scared guy with the pretty blue eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so this is a stand alone, but I may come back and revisit these guys, either for another chapter or just in their own fic. Because oh imagine the possibilities, would you please?

Well this was just sad. Dean loved male strip clubs as much as the next bisexual, and he certainly wasn’t opposed to strippers in cowboy hats and sequined chaps strutting their stuff in sexy boots. Unfortunately, the cowboy who had just finished his set and was giving a lapdance clearly had no idea how to read the room.

The unfortunate recipient of said lapdance was anything but happy about his current situation. His bright blue eyes were wide as saucers, his entire body was frozen in an emotion that appeared to be abject horror, and the fact that the companion who had paid for the dance was nearly apoplectic with laughter combined with those body language cues should have been enough to let the cowboy wannabe know that he should speed it along and not get too into it.

He wasn’t getting the memo. Brokeback Moron was giving it his absolute all, grinding on the blue eyed guy like he was trying to start a fire using nothing but his g-string, and making faces like the second string actress in a Cinemax late night movie. Dean was kind of an expert in soft core porn, so he knew what he was talking about.

Dean couldn’t take it anymore. This stupid song was never going to end and the blue eyed guy looked like he might have an actual cardiac issue if the stripper didn’t quit it. Dean got up and walked over, pulling out his wallet as he walked.

“Hey!” he called to the stripper. “I’ll give you twice as much as the price of a lap dance if you get off his lap right now.”

The clueless cowboy smiled, in an attempt at flirtation. “You want a dance, you gotta wait your turn, stud.”

“Uh, no. I don’t want a dance. I’m trying to rescue the guy who clearly doesn’t want you anywhere near him.”

The smile didn’t waver. “Nah, he likes it. Don’t you handsome?” the cowboy asked, turning to his captive audience.

“No. Please get up. Please. Get up. Get up _getupgetup_!” the blue eyed man said, getting a little hysterical toward the end as the cowboy took a few seconds too long to finally get a clue.

“Wow. You really weren’t enjoying that at all,” Dean said, after the cowboy had snatched the bills out of his hand with an angry glare at both of them and run off. “Why didn’t you ask him to stop sooner?”

“I—at first I didn’t want to be rude and then I was just so horrified, I couldn’t speak.”

“Not your thing, huh?”

“That’s a significant understatement.” The blue eyed man looked down awkwardly and then back at Dean. “Thank you for the help. I was very uncomfortable.”

“Sure, no problem. He was kinda clueless. I’m curious, though. If you’re straight, why are you in a male strip club?”

Blue Eyes’s companion laughed at that. “Oh, little Cassie here is many things, but straight ain’t one of ‘em. I’m Gabriel, by the way.” He leered at Dean for a second. “You’re prettier than the cowboy. Don’t suppose I could pay _you_ for a lap dance?”

“No!” Dean and “little Cassie” said in unison, then stared at each other.

“Geez,” Gabriel said. “I know when I’m not wanted. I’ll be at the bar getting drinks.” So saying, he got up and walked away from the table, unsuccessfully hitting on three different people before he was finally out of earshot.

“So, you think I’d be a bad dancer or something?” Dean asked, more to keep the guy looking at him than for any other reason.

“No! I think Gabriel was right. You are far better looking than the stripper was, but after you rescued me, I could hardly stand by and let Gabriel maul you.”

For some reason, he looked shifty when he was saying all this, but Dean let it slide.

“Mm. Well, thanks, I guess. Not that I’m opposed to grinding on dudes’s laps, but honestly, he’s not really my type, anyway.” _Unlike you._ “So if it’s not that you’re straight, what’s the deal, Cassie? I mean, if you don’t mind me askin’.”

 

“Please don’t call me that!” Cas snapped. He closed his eyes, immediately realizing his tone was unwarranted. “I’m sorry. I prefer Cas or Castiel. My brother is just an insufferable ass.”

“I’m Dean. Your brother being Gabriel, the man you were afraid would maul me?”

“The same.”

Dean nodded thoughtfully. “Yeah, he kinda gives off that ‘lives to torture his younger brother’ vibe.”

“You have an older brother?”

Dean grinned. “Nope. A younger one. His name is Sam, but I call him Sammy half the time, just to wind him up. And dude, if I could bring him to a strip club and get him a lap dance before he realized it was a male strip club? I would so do that.”

“Maybe I should’ve let my brother have you,” Cas said drily.

“Well, if I’m being honest, there are other laps I’d much rather dance on, but I think you made it pretty clear you aren’t into that, so....” Dean shrugged, smiling a little. “My loss, I guess.”

“I’m not a prude!” Cas blurted, once again over shooting the tone he was going for by a mile and wishing the floor would swallow him up.

One of Dean’s eyebrows climbed somewhere near his hairline. “I never said you were. Prudes don’t tend to hang out in strip clubs, so far as I know. Least not without picket signs.”

“We were trying immersion therapy,” Cas said, shocking himself much more than Dean. Even as he tried to understand why he was telling Dean —a complete stranger—these personal things when he was normally such a private, closed off person, more words started coming out of his mouth. “I’m touch averse. Not with my family so much, although there are definitely limits, but with strangers and even friends and romantic partners that I haven’t dated for very long.”

Cas may not have known why he started telling Dean his secrets, but by the time he was done, he was pretty sure he knew why he’d continued talking once he’d started. On Dean’s face, he had seen curious interest in what Cas was saying, and maybe mild concern for Cas’s well-being—but no pity and definitely no disgust.

“Wow. That seems like it could suck, especially when you’re dating.” Dean’s facial expression seemed to indicate an “aha!” moment. “That’s why you didn’t tell the cowboy to fuck off right away. You were trying to tough it out, see if the immersion would work.”

Cas nodded, surprised at Dean’s perception. “I honestly have no idea why I’m telling you any of this. I’m normally as reticent to share with strangers as I am to be touched by them.”

“Hm.” Dean leaned closer and lowered his voice. “Is it because you think I’m cute and you’re hoping if you give me a sob story I’ll ask you out?”

Cas spluttered, shocked by Dean’s words, until Dean grinned.

“Because I gotta tell ya, it’s totally working.” He waved a hand nonchalantly. “And don’t worry about the whole touching thing. Not a big fan of all the loving touching squeezing with strangers myself. Not that that has stopped me from having one night stands in the past, but that’s just because the sex part is easy. It’s all the huggy crap with people I don’t know that I don’t like.” His smile then was slow and wide. “Besides. Just looking at you is damn near as good as touching a lot of other people.”

“I—yes. I’d like to go out with you.” Looking at Dean was better than touching anyone, as far as Cas was concerned, but he felt it prudent not to blurt at least that one thing.

“All right, Cassius Clown, I got you a whiskey. Hero Man, I pegged you—hehe—for a beer guy, am I right?” Gabriel asked, arriving back at the table with the two drinks he indicated and a third that was the color of nausea medicine and nearly the size of Gabriel himself.

“Uh, thanks for the beer. What the fuck is _that_?” Dean asked, nodding at the pink concoction.

“I’m not sure. The bartender called it ‘Aphrodite’s Clitoris’ I think, but she could’ve just been fucking with me.”

Dean glanced at the bar and grinned. “Oh, if Benny’s tending bar, I can pretty much promise you that’s the real name. And God knows what she put in it.”

“I don’t suppose this is her way of flirting with me? Girls who can bench press me are kind of my fetish,” Gabriel said with an eyebrow waggle and a long sip of his drink. He grimaced and shook his head. “Holy shit. She wasn’t being stingy with the alcohol either.” Without waiting for an answer from Dean, Gabriel headed back to the bar.

“She’s gonna eat him for lunch,” Dean said with a grin, watching Gabriel go. Then he turned back to Cas. “So, about this date... you free tomorrow night?”

“Did you miss the part where I’m socially awkward and touch averse? I’m free every night.”

“Sassy. Lucky for you I like that. I mean, you can’t blame me for asking. You’re not free right now. You’re failing at immersion therapy.”

Cas smiled, unable to deny Dean’s words. “Touché.” He downed his whiskey in one go. “I would like very much to go out with you tomorrow night.”

“Awesome. Let me give you my number.”

After they exchanged numbers, Dean expressed what seemed genuine regret when he said he had to go because he had an early morning. He promised to call Cas in the early afternoon to schedule their date. Cas couldn’t remember being this excited for a date in years. Maybe not ever.

“Aw, where did Handsome go?” Gabriel asked, returning at last from the bar.

“He had to get home.” Cas accepted the new glass of whiskey Gabriel held out and drank it all. “Thanks for bringing me out tonight, Gabriel.”

Gabriel chocked on the weird drink—blue, this time—that he’d been mid-sip of. “You—what? I was fully prepared to be scolded and cussed out.” He pouted. “Where’s the fun if you’re not annoyed?” Gabriel’s eyes narrowed. “Wait. Why aren’t you annoyed?”

Cas grinned. “Because I have a date with Handsome.”

“I—you— _what_? No. No way.” Gabriel’s expression began at shocked and morphed its way through confusion before finally landing on giddiness. “Who is the best big brother in the world, huh? Me, that’s who. I dragged your ass here, right?” Gabriel’s face fell. “Please tell me he knows about—”

“He does” Cas interrupted, nodding. “He wants to go out with me _anyway_.” Cas leaned forward slightly and dropped his voice. “He even said _he gets it_.”

“Yes! I am definitely world’s best big brother!” Gabriel grinned and held his drink aloft.

On an ordinary night, Cas would have heaved a long suffering sigh at Gabriel’s ridiculousness. This wasn’t an ordinary night, however. This was the night Cas met Dean. He was pretty sure his life was about to change for the better. He couldn’t wait.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All right, so I stretched the prompt a bit because that wasn't lapsex, so much as a lapdance, but... well. This little nugget of weird popped into my head when I was reading the prompt and that was all s/he wrote. COME SEND ME SOME LOVIN'S! pretty please? ♥♥♥

**Author's Note:**

> I live for comments written by lovely people. Thoughtful people. Kind people. Snarky people. My people. All the loves. Say hi! ~~I hardly bite at all anymore~~ ♥♥♥


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